


French Perfume

by thecattydddy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Smut, pirate, pirate!talia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Kirkland lives a pirate's life. Money, rum and wide expanses of sea are all he needs... Well, mostly. </p><p>There might be just one thing missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They all knew the Captain was a little... Different.

Of course, pirates never quite fit into the normality of average society. They were far too often bound to their fellow crew-mates and their captains by the mere circumstance, but Captain Arthur Kirkland was even more so.

Rumours about him were easily spread. Some believed he was actually a government funded pirate, set out to foil the trading plans of the foreigners. Others said he was not even human, but some immortal entity sent by god to send a plague upon all traitors of the world. Some said it was biologically impossible for him to grow facial hair anywhere but on his eyebrows.

Glancing up as said captain walked over to see the perfectly shaved chin and bushes set above his eyes made the last one seem a little less like a rumour.

"Morris," Captain Arthur turned a stern eye onto his second in command, "I will be going inland for the evening. I expect you to keep the men in line and be ready to set off by the time I return in the morning. I don't want another fiasco like the one in Calais. I will not be subjected to walking for three days, again, just because you baboons refuse to behave yourselves."

"You've got my word, Boss," Morris promised with a clipped salute. Arthur mumbled something under his breath and turned to go, leaving the crew members to finally talk among themselves.

"Ever wonder where he goes?" another man asked, coming to lean beside Morris.

"No idea, Ward," Morris shrugged, turning to him.

"We should go find out," Ward grinned, pushing off his wall and walking determinedly after the captain.

"Are you insane? He'll kill us if he knew we were snooping," Morris hissed, "And if any of the others do anything while we're out, he'll have my head."

"Don't be such a frenchman," Ward nodded the direction he was already going, "I know you're curious." Morris ground his teeth together in frustration, but finally gave in.

"If we get caught, I'm blaming this entirely on you," Morris threatened.

"I knew you couldn't resist." The two men caught up with their captain, trailing behind the Englishman, being sure to remain hidden from his observations. Arthur, on the other hand, was humming a sailor's tune to himself, walking the streets with an air about him synonymous to a king.

He was eager to finish his business in the French Commune of _Le Havre_. It was a necessary evil - One he could not take with him no matter what he wanted. He walked into a pub, the two crewmen taking a seat across the room in direct view of him, asking for drinks when a lady came around to ask. Arthur took his place at the counter, ordering a drink and sipping it as he awaited... Whatever it was he was waiting for.

"This is ridiculous," Morris grumbled, "He's probably just going to try and find a random lady while we're here and that's all. If you ask me, we should do the same."

"That isn't a look of browsing, Morris," Ward insisted, "That's a look of persistence. He's looking for someone in particular. You don't suppose the Captain has a lover, do you?"

"Not in this town," Morris turned him down, "This is French territory. Perhaps back in Portsmouth, but even that's rather doubtful. If he had one here, don't you think we'd have stopped here, before?"

"I guess," Ward shrugged, "A rival maybe?"

"You know as well as I that his rival is that Spanish bastard," Morris said, "Look. This is going to be pointless. Let's just go already. I hear the French Mistresses are incredibly talented and I wouldn't mind a-"

"Shh! Morris, hush," Ward slapped a hand over his mouth. Just then, a French man had walked into the pub, making eye contact with their captain almost immediately. Arthur's face had blasted through relief to excitement to annoyance to indifference until he finally turned his back to the door, pretending like he hadn't been searching for the last few minutes for this particular man. The two crew members watched as the blonde man with the shoulder length hair sauntered his way across the room in the way only the French do, taking the seat beside Arthur. They inconspicuously moved closer, straining to hear the conversation.

" _What the hell are you doing here_?" Arthur demanded in a loose French, once the man had ordered his drink, " _I thought you said you wouldn't be available until after sunset_."

" _Yes, well,_ " the Frenchman replied, using his native tongue as well, though he was much better at it, " _Last time I said that you were far to drunk to be of any fun by the time I arrived._ "

"Fuck you," Arthur glared, reverting to English as he was far too done with the man's bull to bother with translating.

"Not quite," Francis hummed, accepting his beverage from the bartender and glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye, "Unless of course you wanted to try something new."

"Francis!" Arthur hissed, glancing around in case anyone had heard.

"You're far too worried, _Angleterre_ ," Francis replied, nudging his drink towards him, "Next time I'll wait until at least your tongue is loose to arrive." Arthur didn't answer, merely taking the drink and sipping it with a scowl.

"Who is that guy?" Ward demanded, nodding towards them.

"No idea," Morris admitted, "An old friend, perhaps?"

"I doubt it," Ward replied, "They aren't exactly friendly with how much the Captain clearly despises him."

"The Captain despises everyone," Morris stated.

"True."

"Are you satisfied, now?" Morris hoped. Ward shook his head, grinning to himself.

"I still think that he was looking for his lover," Ward mumbled, making Morris spit out his drink and give his crewmate a disbelieving look.

"Are you mad?" Morris demanded. Ward just grinned harder.

"You smell like citrus," Francis mentioned, leaning towards Arthur, to which the captain pinched his nose and scowled.

"You smell like perfume," Arthur returned, his words distorted from holding his nose closed.

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," Francis chuckled, "I see you smelling my things when you don't think I can see you." Arthur's face went beet red and he slammed his drink down, storming out of the pub. Francis chuckled, tossing some money on the counter for the both of them and headed after him. He was on his way out when he suddenly stopped, turning to the two men, who stared at him in horror.

"You're clearly not from around here - English, _oui_?" Francis questioned them. Ward's mouth hung open and so Morris answered.

"Indeed."

"No offence, but you stick out like a particularly sore thumb," Francis stated, "Usually I wouldn't mention anything, but you both seemed rather interested in the gentleman I was just talking to. You wouldn't happen to be planning anything, would you?"

"No, no, no! Nothing like that!" Ward laughed, suspiciously. Francis narrowed his eyes, but kept the smile on his face with a little force.

Morris sighed, "We're members of his crew."

"Morris!" Ward gasped, "We don't know if this guy knows about the Captain!"

"No fear," Francis held up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I already know everything about your dear captain... More so than I'm sure either of you do. That _is_ why you are following him, yes?"

"Uh... Yeah," Morris nodded, "Why? What is he going to do?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin your expedition," Francis smirked, "And I wont be telling our little Arthur, but do try not to make too much of a nuisance of yourself." With that, Francis left as well. Morris and Ward were quick to follow after him.

"I ran away from you for a reason," Arthur growled when Francis appeared, presumably alone.

"I couldn't imagine why," Francis purred, coming up beside him with a Cheshire grin.

"Fifty quid says they are lovers," Ward offered.

"They aren't," Morris growled, determinedly.

"So make the bet then. If you're so sure, it'll be an easy win," Ward suggested. Morris growled, but he agreed.

"You're insufferable," Arthur spat, shoving Francis aside and heading back towards the port, "I'm going back to my crew - At least they respect me, you damn _frog_!" Francis chuckled. If only he knew.

"Come now, Arthur. Don't be so brash. There is another pub I think you'd be particularly fond of, anyways. I know how much you like your rum, _Mon Cher_ , and they are one of the ones that isn't above paying extra for their foreign products. It'll be much more fun than fighting your crewmates for a fair ration. I'll even cover the charges."

"I don't need your money," Arthur retaliated, but he allowed the Frenchman to lead him away, the prospect of actual proper rum filled his stomach with butterflies. It was the weakness of any true English pirate - Alcohol and money.


	2. Chapter 2

"We've been here for hours," Morris complained, "And I'm not even sure you have enough money to pay me at this point."

"I'm not too worried," Ward returned, eyes trained on his captain and the Frenchman that stayed persistently attached to his side. Francis leaned over to whisper in his ear and Arthur scowled, but he didn't come off as quite as angry. As the sun had set and he became more accustomed to the scent wafting off of Francis and as the general chatter around them being in a language he didn't understand simply by nature proved to be a sort of background music to them, he began to loosen up a bit, realising what he had ventured this far for in the first place.

" _Francis_ ," Arthur breathed, heat beating at an alarming rate as he realised there was only one way this would go from here on out and how he would certainly like nothing better.

"Hmm?" Francis' eyes sparkled, his own drink sloshing slightly in his glass.

"Do you have a house here, too?" Arthur wondered, knowing spending the night in an inn wouldn't be incredibly troublesome, but certainly not ideal.

"Mm... It just so happens I do," Francis purred, moving a hand to rest on Arthur's shoulder, "Were we thinking of going home, then?"

" _Oui_."

The two crew mates were startled by the heavy look from their captain. From a man so often irritated, it looked almost... Intimate. Francis didn't need to be told anything else as a few francs slid across the bar. Helping his companion to his feet, the two left. Arthur felt the Frenchman's fingers wandering down his back, a warm trail left behind by where he'd been.

The walk to Francis' house was a short one, as if he'd almost acquire the place this close to the pub on purpose. Arthur was shaking with anticipation, drawn in by perfumes despite earlier comments. His nose buried itself in Francis' shoulder as he placed an arm around Arthur, pulling them closer. Arthur hummed softly, fingers latching onto Francis' coat, the darkness of the sky washing over them proved to act as a concealer, only interrupted by the flickering torch every few feet. It was when Arthur was shoved rough against a door that he realised Francis was in no better position than he. A hungry look passed through the Frenchman's eyes and it made Arthur's trousers a little tighter.

"We are quite a pair, _Angleterre_ ," Francis purred, stroking the side of his face. Arthur made a small noise in return, fisting handfuls of Francis' jacket in his quivering hands, "Do you miss me while you are out there - Scouring the farthest reaches of the world for fortune?"

"Not on your life," Arthur replied, his words holding no disdain or hatred. If anything, it almost sounded like a profession of love, the way he said it. To them, it most certainly was. Francis cupped his face, leaning forward and catching his lips in a passionate kiss. The Captain's eye closed and Arthur whimpered into the kiss, his arms finding their way around Francis's neck and his leg's around the taller man's waist.

"Let's go," Morris hissed, starting to rise out of his uncomfortable position.

"But it's just getting to the good part," Ward replied, cockily. Morris simply stalked away in anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in the next chapters. Enjoy, if you'd like. Don't if not. That's all I have to say on the matter.


	3. Chapter 3

"Let's go inside," Francis offered, once they pulled out of the kiss to breath. He'd sensed the two crew mates walking away and now they were alone, just the two of them. Arthur buried his face in Francis' shoulder, breathing in deeply through his nose. Francis kept one hand under him to keep the Englishman steady and used the other to open the door.

The house was a tiny one - Possibly the smallest out of his many - but it was quaint. A living area presented itself before them, already furnished as he had asked. The kitchen off to through one doorway would be ignored. It was the second room that particularly interested them both and he walked towards it after closing the front door with his back. He was forced to pick his path there with incredible difficulty as Arthur pressed kisses into his neck and collarbone, mumbling soft nothing's into his skin that left it in a tingling sensation. For someone so violent as Arthur was at times, you'd think the sex would be equally so, but it turned out he was incredibly tame when it came to the bedroom.

Or at very least when it came to Francis.

Arthur was placed on the bed, delicately, holding Francis close lest he try and move away for even a moment. A nightstand with a drawer rested beside the bed and Francis threw it open and searched it blindly before removing a jar that fit into his hands.

"This one came straight from Spain," France smirked, letting it roll little on the mattress, "He sounded real confused when I asked for it, but don't worry - I didn't have to tell him anything."

"Don't you dare mention that bastard while we're like this," Arthur warned, "I'll kill you before you do it, again."

"No reason to be so hostile," Francis cooed, tossing Arthur's hat aside before pulling him into another chaste kiss, "I was simply keeping you informed."

"Somethings are better left unsaid," Arthur returned. Francis smiled at the man below him, a slight scowl on his features even still and his hair swept wildly in his face. Already his cheeks were red and he looked away when he caught Francis staring, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Francis wondered, any act if innocence thrown aside at the way his lips curled upwards.

"Like..." Arthur grasped at the words he was searching for, "Like... You're going to eat me or something."

"Mm... I just might, though," Francis trailed his fingers down Arthur's body, stroking lightly over the bulge in the Englishman's pants when he reached it. Arthur drew in a quick breath, his entire body reacting to the slightest touch.

"Don't tease me," Arthur frowned, catching Francis' wrist as he began to pull away a little, "Either you're gonna do it now or I swear I will walk out."

"Aw. You're no fun, _Mon Cher_ ," Francis smiled, returning the pressure against Arthur, pushing the red jacket off his shoulder's with his other hand, "And you always wear so much. It hardly seems you want this at all." Arthur mumbled something unintelligible, to which Francis was forced to prompt him to speak louder, twice.

"God, I do want it!" Arthur finally said as Francis made a particularly arousing tug, " _Yes, yes, yes..._ " He trailed back off into mumbling.

"Much better," Francis approved, kicking the jacket and cummerbund over the bed as well. The ruffled fabric of the jabot joined them. It wasn't until the eyepatch was removed did Arthur actually complain.

"Oh great. Now my eyes are unfocused," he grumbled. Francis paused a moment to look at his to see if this was a legitimate concern and to give him one for if it was. In truth, Arthur was simply gripping at the last of his dignity as he fell farther under the other's spell.

"I think you'll come to forgive me," Francis murmured, sliding his hand between Arthur's waist and pants, drawing a moan out of the Englishman. The sound directed his blood downwards and Francis began to frantically pull the shirt over Arthur's head, forcing him to sit up to make the task easier. Arthur instinctively covered his chest, but Francis wouldn't have any of that as he caught the wrists of the man below him, trapping them above his head with one hand while he brushed fingertips along Arthur's exposed body. The feathery action made him squirm, but Francis kept a firm grip on his wrists, not letting up even slightly.

" _Ah_ ," Arthur's face felt red as Francis began to fondle his nipples, giving them attention one at a time, "If you're gonna do this at least focus your attention on one task."

"Aw, but _Mon Cher_ ," Francis whispered in his ear, "If I let you go you wont let me see your beautiful body." Arthur's red face deepened and he mumbled something about not being beautiful as that was a term used for women.

"Just lemme have my hands back," Arthur commanded.

"I'm afraid not," Francis replied.

"Just tie them there or something, jesus!" Arthur cried, words tumbling out of his mouth before he quite comprehended them. Realisation hit him as the confused look from Francis at the outburst quickly turned darker and a smirk formed on his lips.

"Is that what you want, Arthur?" Francis wondered, voice laced with arousal. Arthur opened his mouth to object, but the idea began to float around in his mind and he could quite clearly see from the bulge in Francis' pants what he thought of it. Finally he closed his mouth, turning his head to the side to avoid embarrassment.

"Well?" Francis purred, nipping at Arthur's neck. The Brit nodded, frantically, still refusing to meet Francis' eyes. For a moment, the hands and pressure of another man disappeared entirely and he turned, afraid that Francis had given up and gone off to do something else. His wide eyed stare was met with Francis' as he undid the belt around his own waist, holding it in his hand after.

"Arthur," Francis smiled, kindly, taking his wrists back, gently, and holding them above his head and he began to secure them to the bedpost, "We're in the middle of something. Please don't tell me you thought I'd actually just leave you like this."

"Of course n-not," Arthur growled, "I'd beat you senseless before you did."

"Oh, _Mon Ami,_ " France chuckled, pressing an kiss onto his lips, soft and sweet, "You are very silly sometimes."

"I am not _silly,_ " Arthur grumbled to himself. Francis pulled his own vest and shirt away, leaving his chest as bare as Arthur's. He felt the skin to skin contact as Francis leaned forward for another kiss and it drove him crazy. Francis didn't expect legs to wrap around him and pull him forward, brushing their arousals together through their trousers. He grabbed a fistful of Arthur's hair to pull his head into a better position, brushing his tongue against Arthur's lips and he opened them almost immediately. The perfumes finally took a recognisable scent as Arthur picked out roses and wine and just everything Francis. It acted as if a drug, clouding any judgement he had. Their tongues brushed together and Francis tried to suck the breath right out of him.

_"Beautiful,_ " Francis cooed, brushing his hair out of the way when the finally pulled away for air. Arthur swallowed oxygen greedily, the high that came from such a kiss coursing through his veins. Francis made quick work of the rest of their clothes, those falling to the ground to join their companions. Fully exposed and grabbing the small container from earlier, Francis finally paused, looking at Arthur in a hesitant way.

"You're not honestly telling me you're gonna stop now," Arthur pouted.

"I just want to make sure you're alright with this," Francis stated, placing a hand on his face and stroking beneath his eye with his thumb.

"We've done this plenty of times, Francis," Arthur reminded, annoyed. His hips rocked forward to brush against the Frenchman's member and he hissed.

"Yes, but we've never done this before," Francis reminded, using one hand to keep the antsy Brit in place and the other to tug lightly on the bindings around Arthur's wrists, "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

"I said _yes_ ," Arthur stated, clearly, "So unless you have objections to this I suggest you get on with it." They had a short silent argument with their eyes before Francis sighed, giving in.

"Alright."

Arthur grinned triumphantly, basking in his victory as Francis pulled his legs up over his shoulders, taking some of the substance from the container and spreading it over his fingers. A digit circled Arthur's tight entrance before finally pushing in, sending a shiver up his spine.

"Cold," Arthur mumbled as Francis worked. The Frenchman reached out, as if to take Arthur's hand, but realised it was otherwise preoccupied and settled on stroking his thigh and leaving gentle kisses there.

"Francis!" Arthur demanded as a small bruise began to form on his legs, "Don't leave those there!"

"You would rather I leave them where everyone can see them?" Francis inquired, prodding around in Arthur.

"No I most certainly would n- _ah... Ah..."_ Francis' finger brushed against Arthur's prostate, sending a light pulse of pleasure through his system. His head lolled back, "Again. Do it, again."

"What's the magic word?" Francis teased, poking a second digit in, "Surely you would not forget to be a gentleman simply because you're a pirate."

"Please," Arthur pleaded, his voice becoming nothing short of a low whine, "Please, please, _please_. Francis come on. I don't think I can say it anymore than I already am."

"Shh," Francis laughed, quietly, brushing against that spot again and Arthur moaned, "No need to be so anxious, _Mon Cher._  I'm not going anywhere." A third and final finger was added, all three opening up the hole as best as they could.

"That's enough," Arthur interrupted, finally, "I want it now, Francis. Give it to me." Francis ignored him just a moment more before he finally agreed that he himself couldn't take it any longer. Slicking up his own member, he aligned himself with the hole and pushed inside, both of them reacting accordingly. Francis felt the tight heat wrap around him and moaned while Arthur had to force himself not to tense up.

"You alright?" Francis grunted, his hand resting on Arthur's waist, rubbing small circles into it.

"Yeah," Arthur mumbled, "You can keep going." Francis pushed lightly, testing his waters, before giving in and just snapping his hips forward, hitting Arthur's prostate spot on.

"Yes! Oh god _again_ , move, please, damn it," Arthur groaned, tears collecting at his eyes, "I need this. It's been too long. I'm never leaving ever again! Never, ever, _ever_..." Francis knew, of course, that this was not going to be the case, but he wasn't about to point it out, instead choosing to pull back out before moving forward again, trying to set up a rhythm as he went. He occasionally would hit Arthur's prostate at a particular angle and elicit a string of poorly articulated words from him, but it was mostly quiet, bar for the shifting of bodies and heavily breathing or the offhanded groan from either party. Francis pressed a kiss to Arthur's forehead used the hand that he wasn't holding himself up with to grip Arthur's member, pumping at a rhythm as close to the one he had set up as possible.

" _Fr-France,_ " Arthur managed, burying his face in the pillow, warning in his words.

"Look at me when you do," was Francis' only response. Arthur drew his eyesight to the man's face, finally going over with his mouth formed in an ' _o'_ shape. His lover was quick to follow, groaning out the Brit's name. They lay there a moment, unaffected by the surrounding world. Finally, Francis shifted, pulling out of Arthur and wiping his cum cover hand on the sheet. He loosened Arthur's restraints and the Englishman instantly fanned his hands through Francis' luscious locks.

"If we go tidy up a bit, are you going to leave?" Francis wondered, resting his head on Arthur's chest. It wouldn't be the first time he'd fucked and ran, especially since his crew tended to act like a bunch of unruly teenage boys when left to their own accords, but Francis didn't quite want to let him go, yet. He'd be out there at sea for who knows how long and then the Frenchman would simply be forced to return to his nation duties, only seeing the man via a ship in the distance; One which he could not approach lest they become enemies. Arthur had been planning to be in and out rather quickly, thinking maybe if he arrived earlier he could leave before nightfall. Of course, that plan had been forfeited and there wasn't any particular reason to try and escape, as far as he knew, and sailing out in the dead of night would not be necessary this time.

"No," Arthur finally decided, letting out a sigh, "I will stay the night if you'd like." Francis couldn't help the grin that formed itself.

"I would like that very much."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are. My infamous "Morning After" Segment.

Francis awoke to a persistent pounding and light streaking in through the windows. A warm body beside him began to groggily return to the land of the conscious, nuzzling his nose deeper into Francis' side in a hope to block out the light. Finally the banging stopped and he hoped they decided to go away.

" _Francia_!" A voice called, "I know you're here! I had to go all the way to Paris! _¿Que es la idea_?" Francis' eyes flew open. No. No, no, _no._ Not _now._ Of all the times for this guy to show up. Francis shoved Arthur's head under the blankets, ignoring his squawk of protest and telling him not to open his mouth under any circumstance. He leaned over the edge of the bed and managed to push all the clothes out of sight just as the door flew open.

"Francis," Antonio stood in the doorway, giving his a weird look, "What are you still in bed for? We have a lot to do today, _¿sí?_ "

" _Oui_..." Francis began, speaking in his native tongue as Antonio had, "What are you doing here, though, Antonio?" He could feel the figure under the bed tense and Francis placed his hand on Arthur's head to keep him down. He could practically see the angry glare being sent his way.

"Looking for you," Antonio answered, "I went to Paris and they said I could find you here. Don't know what you're doing in this place, though."

"Antonio, I think it might be best if you-" Francis cut himself off as something warm and wet flickered across his member, challenging him. His surprise must have shown on his face because Antonio furrowed his brow.

"Are you alright, _Amigo_?" he asked, stepping over the threshold.

"Stay right there!" Francis commanded, using one hand to hold out to him. The other was gripped in Arthur's hair, trying to hold him back, but the other man was persistent.

"Woah. Okay," Antonio held up his hands in surrender, stepping back out of the room, "Sure thing, buddy. What's gotten into you, eh? You're starting to act as strange as the English." Arthur managed to slip out of Francis' grasp and took to opportunity to take on his dick, already partially hard and clearly trying not to be.

"I _-ah..._ " Francis felt his face go red, "Look. Spain, you should probably leave..."

"You're not jacking off in front of me, are you?" Antonio's eyes found themselves trained on the movement coming from beneath the covers. He moved forward, again, reaching out to pull the covers back.

"I have someone here!" Francis cried, pausing Antonio in his tracks, "You really arrived at the most inconvenient time..."

" _Oh_." the gears clicked in the Spaniard's head and he back out, again, face draining of its colour, "Oh... _Lo siento, Amigo. No sabía_."

"It's alright," Francis insisted, "Just get out." Antonio didn't need to be told twice and he was gone, calling out that he'd expect Francis to come by Madrid later and share all the details. As soon as he was gone, Francis pulled the covers back and brought Arthur up to eye level by his hair.

"Were you trying to get caught?" Francis hissed, hating the smug smirk that Arthur wore rather proudly.

"I'm _sorry_ ," Arthur said in a mock apology, "When's the last time we could have sex twice in a row? I thought you'd be overjoyed. _My bad_."

"You," Francis repositioned Arthur in his lap, narrowing his eyes at his lover, "Are the most immature nation, by far. I used to think that title might belong to the Italy brothers or Prussia, perhaps, but no. It's you."

"I'm offended by that," Arthur objected. Francis simply growled before attacking Arthur's lips, keeping the nation pressed to him with a firm hand on his back. He reached between their bodies to take hold of Arthur's member, giving it a good twist. Arthur moaned into the kiss, his eyes fluttering closed as he wrapped his arms around Francis' neck.

"Don't be such a baby," Francis scowled, brushing lightly on Arthur's dick.

"Okay," he mumbled, "Can I finish that blow job, now?"

Francis couldn't help the small chuckle. "Please. By all means."

* * *

 "There he is!" Ward pointed towards their approaching captain, "Fifty quid says he's got a hickey."

"He's not gonna let something like that happen," Morris rolled his eyes, agreeing to the bet, "You're gonna lose that money."

" _Sure I am,_ " Ward grinned to himself. Captain Arthur Kirkland boarded the ship.

"What do you two think you're looking at?" he snapped, startling them into order. It wasn't until he was pasting them that they noticed a small purplish bruise on his neck, just barely visible and even then only if you were looking for it. Ward snickered while Morris outright swore.

" _What_?" Arthur turned around to look at them.

"Nothing," Morris glared at him before pulling out some money from his pocket, handing it over to Ward and stalking away. Arthur was left alone and confused as Ward wandered off as well, counting his prize for a competition he was unaware even existed.

"What a weird bunch," he mumbled, "Even by my standards." Shrugging, he went to tell the others to prepare to set off. There was treasure and adventure awaiting him out there which he wouldn't be giving up any time soon.

_The End._


End file.
